Lent can be a confusing time. During the  Ash Wednesday liturgy that begins Lent, the priest or minister draws a cross with ashes on each person’s forehead saying, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” These words echo the language of the Christian funeral liturgy, “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.” A reminder of our death seems to be a primary theme of Lent, and indeed each of us will die someday. But Lent culminates with Easter, and we are told that through the resurrection, Jesus conquered death, or as Saint Paul wrote, “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” So, is it a time to focus on death, or continuing life after death?
Death has certainly been a part of my experience. In 1985 my father died and six months later my only brother died. On Holy Thursday 1987, my mother also died. I lost my entire family of origin in a two year period. My work as a chaplain has primarily been with those who have life-threatening illnesses. In the midst of writing this, our family is facing the death of Wendy’s youngest brother Jim, who is in the end stages of cancer. When I was nine years old, in fourth grade, I had emergency surgery for a perforated appendix and during that surgery I had what is now called a Near Death Experience. 
Perhaps Lent is both a reminder of death and a reminder that life and death are not dichotomous but like the ongoing turning of yin and yang. Kahlil Gibran wrote in his reflection, On Death: “Life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one…. And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?”
Maybe even eleven year old poet Mattie J. T. Stepanek somehow glimpsed this wisdom before his far too early death when he wrote his poem called About Death:
Isn’t it ironic
That such a morbid word (death)
Rhymes with life-giving breath?

During Lent we are encouraged to pray, fast and give alms, and while good practices, they can too easily be activities that simply feed our spiritual egos. Franciscan priest and author Richard Rohr wonders if these practices are too often substitutes for the inner journey. He writes “Our culture no longer values the inner journey.” In fact, “We actively avoid and fear it. In most cases we no longer even have the tools to go inward.” (What The  Mystics Know)
I have found that Taoist internal alchemy 內丹术 provides me with tools for this inward journey. These practices include physical, mental, and spiritual qigong to purify and transform our mortal body into an immortal spiritual body. This is similar to Eastern and Esoteric Christian teachings on theosis or deification. Perhaps Jesus was referring to internal alchemy when he told Nicodemus that he must be born again of spirit and water in order to enter the realm of heaven.
Commonly, inner alchemy qigong focuses on the lower abdomen, known as the lower dantian 下丹田. The Shimen 石门, or Stone Gate acupuncture point is located on the lower dantian is just below the navel. Mythically, this point is the entry to the caves and labyrinths leading down to where we are transformed and reborn. The Psalmist wrote, “You give me strength as I descend into the inner sanctum, to uncover hidden blessings, to seek the treasures of Spirit.” (Psalm 119)

Past the Stone Gate we encounter the po (魄) spirits that dwell beyond our conscious awareness. Po is sometimes used to describe the dark aspect of the moon. Psychologically, the po are our complexes, emotional blocks, and intuitive knowing. Each time we venture down to the realm of the po, we face the darkened areas of our psyche or in Jungian terms, our shadow. Our task is to expand ourselves to include these disowned and feared aspects of self allowing our true divine Self to awaken.
In order to accomplish this we must pass beyond the po spirits and  into the darkest cavern of the psyche where the zhi 志 spirits reside. The zhi connect us to the collective unconscious, the part of our psyche that draws us out of, and back into the Infinite. It is here, in this timeless place, where we approach stillness, darkness, and death, that we eventually become aware of light in the darkness. Jung wrote in his Alchemical Studies, “When one stays in darkness long enough, one begins to see.”
Ming men 命門, the Gate of Life acupuncture point, is on our back, exactly opposite the Stone Gate. It is the mythic portal that leads out of the labyrinthian caves and into resurrection and new life. The Stone Gate being opposite the Gate of Life indicates that death and life are part of each breath we take. These gate metaphors remind me of Jesus saying, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture.” (John 10:9)

I would like to share a qigong meditation for Lent.
Begin by sitting straight in a comfortable chair with both feet flat on the floor. Release tension with each exhalation. After a couple of minutes, allow your awareness to rest on your breathing. Turn away from the outer world by closing your eyes. Breathe deeply into your lower abdomen below the navel. You may notice that it naturally and gently expands with each inhalation and slightly retracts with each exhalation. After simply breathing for awhile you may feel the powerful energies that reside there. As you continue breathing into your belly, imagine you are entering through a Stone Gate and into a dark cavern. In this labyrinthian cavern you become aware of an underground sea of energy. This is the place of the alchemical or paschal mystery. 
Simply continue to breathe. Surrender to the mystery of this place. As thoughts appear, let them pass like flickering shadows. You may experience anxiety or even fear in this dark cavern. Do nothing. Simply breathe. Feelings of anxiety or fear arising only mean that you are approaching the mystery. As you continue this practice over a period of days, weeks or months, your conscious mind will let go and you may experience a tingling or warmth in your dantian and become aware of this inner light appearing in the darkness of your imagination and gradually expanding to show you the way out through the Gate of Life. 
To end this meditation, clear your mind of all images and take a deep breath filling your belly and entire torso with air. Then exhale through your mouth. Take another deep breath through your nose and again exhale through your mouth. Inhale once more and as you exhale this time slowly open your eyes and re-orient yourself to what is around you in the sensory world.

Practicing this meditation on a daily basis may help you better grasp the mystery of Lent and Easter found in the words of John’s gospel: “In the Word was life, and that life was the light of all humankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:4-5)

This posting is my sermon given at Ascension Episcopal Church in Stillwater Minnesota on January 3, 2016

I want to thank Reverend Grace and all of you for inviting me to speak with you today. Let me tell you a little about myself. I am Fr. Yanchy Lacska and I am an ordained priest in the Eastern Orthodox tradition as well as an ordained Interfaith minister. I am also a member of the Lindisfarne Community, an ecumenical new-monastic community in the Anglo-Celtic tradition. I am wearing the habit of the community. The first time my young grandsons saw me wearing this habit they said in surprise, “Grampa! You’re a Jedi.” Besides being a priest and a Jedi, I am also a retired hospital chaplain and a psychologist emeritus.

Today, I want to talk to you about three things: 
First, I want to reminisce a little about my childhood Christmases. 

Second, I want to talk about the wise men in today’s gospel reading and how the celebration and meaning of Christmas developed differently than it did in the Western Church.

Third, I want to offer you an idea that may give you a another perspective on giving and receiving gifts at Christmas.  

So let me begin by telling you about my childhood Christmases. When I was a child, Christmas in our family was, as the song says, that most wonderful time of the year.
I was always excited when we bought a Christmas tree and brought it home. My father would take out his old army trunk filled with colored lights, ornaments and the nativity set and we would decorate the tree. On Christmas Eve, we would attend midnight mass as a family. Then, while we were sleeping, Santa mysteriously came and left presents under our tree. 

But Christmas wasn’t over after December 25th. For our family, Christmas ended on January 6, the Feast of the Epiphany, celebrating the three wise men, as was my father’s tradition growing up in a small village in Hungary. We opened gifts from each other and my dad made a delicious Hungarian crepe dessert filled with jam and sweet cottage cheese called palacsintas.

I remember my father telling us the story of how in his home village, three young boys would be picked each Epiphany to dress up as the three magi. They wore decorated pointy hats, and walked from house to house holding up a star on a stick. The village priest followed blessing each home by sprinkling the doorways with holy water, and then writing the letters: C+M+B (for the names of the three Magi: Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar) + the current year above the door with blessed chalk.

Who were these wise men from the east Matthew mentioned in his gospel and celebrated on the Epiphany? There is scholarly debate about whether they were a mythical invention of Matthew, who wrote about them to reinforce the belief that Jesus was the messiah, or whether they really existed and the story based on historical fact. The magi were members of the priestly caste of the Zoroastrian religion of Persia (Babylon). We know that these magi were highly educated and skilled in astronomy.

Because of the Hebrew captivity and exile in Babylon, the magi would have been well versed in the Jewish Scriptures, including the  predictions of the coming of an anointed child or messiah. It was not only the Hebrew prophets who spoke of the coming of a messiah or a special anointed one. The Persian prophet Zoroaster predicted that an anointed one would be born and that a star would signal his birth. Zoroaster’s description is very similar to that of the Hebrew prophet Isaiah, which is a part of the liturgical Advent readings: “A Child will be born to us. And he will be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty Messenger, Prince of Peace.” The sudden appearance of a brilliant star would have signaled to the magi, the prophesied birth of this anointed child. 

The story of the magi following the star and bringing their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to honor the Christ Child is a beloved part of the Christmas story along with singing angels and shepherds. But while this story is sweet, what is really important for many Western Evangelical Christians, is not the Christmas story, but Jesus dying on the cross to save us from our sins.

For Eastern Christianity the story is broader and deeper. Jesus did not save us only by his death as a sacrifice to an rigid justice-seeking God. His whole life was important to our salvation: His birth, his teaching and healing ministry, his death, and his resurrection. 
In this Eastern Christian view, salvation is not a one time event in our lives that occurs when we accept Jesus as a personal savior or when we are baptized. Salvation is understood as the ongoing, lifelong (and maybe after life is this body) process. Salvation is understood in it original Hebrew and Greek meaning healing and wholeness. Salvation has the same root as the salve we put on a wound. Salvation is process of becoming more and more united with God. St. Athanasius wrote in the third century, “God became human so that humans can become like god.”

Franciscan priest and popular author, Fr Richard Rohr, also understands salvation this way. He wrote, “Somehow, to live in conscious union with God, is what it means to be saved.” Even Jesus, quoting the psalms, said, “You are gods, and all of you are children of the Most High.” (John 10:34 - Psalm 82:6) Jesus also said, “Be perfect, as your heavenly parent is perfect.” (Matthew 5:48)

What on earth does it mean to say “you are gods or to be perfect?” 
Doesn’t our faith teach that there is only one God, in three Persons? How can human beings be gods? In Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Christianity, this concept is nothing new or shocking. It is called theosis. Theosis is the understanding that human beings, who are mythically created in the Divine Image and Likeness, can be truly united with God, and so become like God to such a degree that as St Paul wrote, “we participate in the divine nature,” and as Jesus prayed in John’s gospel, “Just as you (God) are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us.”

C. S. Lewis understood this concept and expressed it in his book Mere Christianity. Lewis wrote: “The command ‘Be ye perfect’ is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He said that we were ‘gods’ and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him. He will make us into a god or goddess, dazzling, radiant, immortal creatures, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine.” (1952, p.174)

The word Jesus used that is usually translated as perfect, more accurately means complete, undivided, and whole.

In Matthew’s gospel story, the magi opened their treasure chests, and offered gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Treasure chests is appropriate, because these would have been very expensive gifts. But these were more than expensive gifts traditionally given to royalty. They would have also been understood by the magi as mystical symbols of wholeness.

Gold represents the mind. Like gold needs to be refined to separate it from base minerals, so must our minds be purified in order to hear the guidance of Holy Wisdom.

Frankincense represents our spirit or emotion. Frankincense has been used for millennia during religious ceremonies and is still the major ingredient in church incense. Recent research at Johns Hopkins University found that smelling frankincense induces feelings of peace and relaxation and can even relieve depression and anxiety. So frankincense helps us become calm and attuned to the holy or sacred during ceremony or meditation.

Myrrh represents the body. Myrrh was used to embalm dead bodies in ancient times. But it was also an ingredient in ancient medicine. In fact, myrrh is still used in medicines today. During his crucifixion, Jesus was offered wine with myrrh to ease his pain. So myrrh represents healing and life after death. 

These gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh then are symbols of mind, body and spirit, symbols of wholeness, of salvation. This wholeness not only focuses on our personal wellbeing, or on a restoration of our unity with God. It includes the Divine One’s desire to heal and make all of creation the realm of heaven, the place and time when all things in heaven and earth are in sacred unity. Indeed, one of the titles or names for God in Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke, is Abwoon, which literally means Sacred Unity.

Maybe the story of Christmas is more than a story only about the infant born in Bethlehem ~ more than about magi following a star and giving gifts. Maybe it is the story about which St. Paul wrote, “God has chosen to make known the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.” ~ Colossians 1:27 Medieval teacher and mystic, Meister Eckhart once said: ‘What good is it that Christ was born in Bethlehem if he is not born now in your heart?’

​I want to leave you with a challenge. On some night this week, when all is dark and quiet, sit in front of your Christmas tree with only the tree lights on, or if your tree is gone, light a candle and sip a glass of wine or tea and think about the light of the Star that guided the magi to the infant in a manger, the light that still guides us. Think of the gifts you gave and received at Christmas in a new light. See each gift you gave as recognition and of honoring the Christ who resides in that person, and each gift you received as honoring the Christ in you. Reflect on how you are on the path of becoming whole and one with God, one with each other, and one with all of creation. And then you will truly have a happy new year.

For our honeymoon, Wendy and I stayed in cabin four at Solbakken Resort on the North Shore of Lake Superior for two weeks. For several years afterwards we spent a week in cabin 4 around the time of our anniversary. 

One summer, during our stay, I wrote in my journal: 
    
   We started a fire on the rocks in front of cabin four last evening and watched the daylight colors reflecting on Lake Superior slowly change into pinks and  lavenders with gray clouds as a backdrop. The reflection of the sunlight on the clouds caused ‘God rays’. The egg shaped moon rose before the dark enveloped the sky, sending its familiar path of moonbeams across the lake directly to the shore below our fire.

We have experienced this occurrence of moonbeams dancing on the watery path many times as we sat on the rocky shore of Lake Superior in front of cabin four as well as from other locations along the North Shore. We have sat quietly meditating on the moon and the moonbeams and we have discussed the spiritual meaning this phenomena evoked in us.  

​During these nights it looks like the moonlight path on the water is coming directly toward us and it is not even ten feet on either side of us. Yet if I was in Duluth and Wendy up the shore in Grand Marais, we would still both see the moonlight path only shining directly on each of us alone. This is how it too often is with the people of various religions, or of no religion, each one believing that the Divine Light or the truth of revelation has come only to them and could not possibly be shining on someone of a different faith tradition or ideology. Ego says, I have the true light and they do not.

But if we follow the moonbeam path to its source, we see only the moon. So perhaps the lesson is not to focus on the moonbeam coming to to us but to let it guide us to the moon, the source. Perhaps the greater lesson is to remember that the scriptures, the masters, religions are not the Source and to use them to find out what they all are pointing to. We will find out that they are all pointing to the same Source.

On Wendy’s birthday, we spent the night in a condo on Lake Pepin to have a good view of the full moon rising over the lake. But the sky was overcast, the wind was strong and it rained. We could not see the moon, or even its glow, but we knew it was there. So is the day moon, invisible during the our daytime, but always in relationship with us on the earth whether we see it or not. 

​A few years ago, cabin four burned down and it was not rebuilt. Wendy and I were both very sad, even though we hadn’t stayed there for awhile. Even though we loved cabin four and grieved its loss, I though of the haiku written by seventeenth century Japanese poet and samurai Mizuta Masahide:
​ 
the barn's burnt down
now
I can see the moon

                 A monk asked Zhaozhou, "What is the living meaning of Zen?."  
                           Zhaozhou said, "The oak tree in the courtyard."
                               ~ The Mumonkan Collection of Zen Koans 


During this summer, I led a retreat at Willow River State Park near our home in Wisconsin. The theme of the retreat was Into the Woods. The activities were based on the Japanese practice of shinrin yoku (forest bathing) and on the advice of Celtic Saint Columbanus, “If you want to know God, first get to know God’s creation.” 

We spent the day immersing ourselves in a small section of the forest and the river, through each of our senses, and through Taoist gigong practices.

During one of the exercises, I had a moment of awakening or understanding that I will try to describe, although words and intellect cannot really do it justice. 

As I was looking around, I noticed an oak leaf hanging from a branch just at my eye level. The late morning sun shown through it from behind, causing it to be translucent and illuminating it as if it was shining from within. As I looked at it in detail I noticed that the veins of the leaf shared a similar design with the tree to which it was attached. It had a large vein, or trunk, branching off into smaller veins at angles, and yet smaller veins branching from each of them. I examined this pattern on the leaf for awhile, and then I looked over at the river. It struck me that the river had basically the same design as the leaf and the tree. Beginning at its source, the river has a main branch and divides into smaller streams and creeks. I noticed that my own body has a trunk which also branches off into arms and legs and a head which branch off further into fingers, toes, and hair. In Chinese Medicine, the energy channels have the same basic design: larger meridians branching off into smaller ones. I remembered that Jesus said, "I am the vine; you are the branches.”(John 15:5). I saw the heavenly realm or spiritual world as sharing this same pattern of branching. I began to feel a deep tingling sensation and joy welling up inside as these realizations of connection continued to develop.

I recalled reading that the the molecular structure of hemoglobin in our blood and of chlorophyl in plants are nearly identical. The main difference is that hemoglobin (on the left) is red because of one iron atom at its core and chlorophyl is green because of one magnesium atom at its core. They both flow through the branches and veins of animals or plants to nourish them. Again an amazing similarity and oneness. It struck me that if Jesus is the vine and we are the branches, then the Divine Energy that flowed through Jesus also flows through and nourishes us. ​

Everything is so similar, so connected, so holy. It was a numinous experience.

We ended the retreat with a Celtic Communion service at a natural stone “altar” surrounded by White Pines. As we consumed the consecrated bread and wine, I knew that it was being converted into nutrients and carried by our blood throughout our bodies and becoming the energy that gives us life and reminding us we are filled with Divine Energy. We were one with the bread and wine, with the trees with the stone, with each other, with Jesus, with the Divine Mystery.

At the beginning of our day of retreat, we opened our morning prayers with a song by local singer/songwriter Peter Mayer. The song is Holy Now. The lyrics remind me of what I experienced that day:

When I was a boy, each week 
On Sunday, we would go to church 
Pay attention to the priest 
He would read the holy word 
And consecrate the holy bread 
And everyone would kneel and bow 
Today the only difference is 
Everything is holy now 
Everything, everything 
Everything is holy now 

You can hear Peter Mayer singing Holy Now on You Tube at 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ua0PE1zulD4

On the first Sunday in June, Wendy and I went for a morning walk at Willow River State Park near our home in Wisconsin. We decided to walk the path along the river just downstream from Little Falls Dam. As we made our way down the path, we soon heard rhythmic music and assumed people were enjoying their Sunday at the park down by the river bank. As we continued walking, the music got louder and we could see a group of young Latino adults standing near and in the water. As we drew closer we could see that they had turned a large section of the rocky embankment into an breathtaking natural altar. It was covered with a variety of fruits, vegetables, wrapped candy, tobacco, and small melons and mangos cut in half and hollowed out holding small burning votive candles . A couple of pieces of charcoal were burning on one rock and the smell of copal incense was in the air. There was a small statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary with two black skinned dolls in fancy dresses on either side of it in a prominent place. A few men were in the river washing themselves off and pouring buckets of water over each other’s backs and heads. Sitting on a large flat rock protruding from the flowing water near the shore, sat an older woman wearing a bright yellow blouse and yellow hair wrap. She was scrubbing the body of a younger woman with what appeared to be a mixture of corn and cut up fruits and vegetables. Another young woman would occasionally dump a bucket of water over her to wash the mixture off. Wendy asked a women standing on the trail next to us if it was okay to stay and watch. She said, “Of course.” We commented on the beauty of the river bank altar and the woman smiled and seemed pleased. Wendy asked if the older woman in the river was a healer. She answered, “Yes, Angela is a healer and more than that.” She told us that all of the other people there were Angela’s students. We both expressed what an honor it was for us to be there. 

The woman then asked Wendy if she would like to go into the river and participate. Wendy, who is much more spontaneous and extroverted than I am, excitedly agreed and asked me to hold her cell phone. She went down the embankment, took off her shoes and walked into the river. She was greeted by a couple of young women and was guided to a rock just in front of Angela and helped to sit down on it with her back leaning against the older woman like a child leaning against her mother’s chest and enfolded in her arms. Angela rubbed the mixture all over Wendy’s arms, legs, neck, face, hair and under her blouse back and front. The women helpers would rinse her off occasionally with buckets of river water. Angela then gave Wendy something to eat out of her hand. 

I asked the woman who was speaking with Wendy earlier if this was a limpia (purification ritual). She said, “Yes, like a limpia.” I saw one of the men in the river point towards me and then make a beckoning hand gesture to join them in the river. I assumed this was intended for the woman next to me, so I pointed to her. The man shook his head indicating no and pointed at me again, gesturing for me to come and join them. Now that Wendy had participated, I knew I would have to overcome my introverted nature and experience this also. I gingerly went down the embankment, took off my hat and emptied the contents of my pockets into it. As I was taking off my shirt, a drenched Wendy, came out of the water, touched my back, and said blithely, “Oh good! You’re going in too.”  I stepped into the cool swift river water and was escorted by two young men to the rock in front of Angela. She made the sign of the cross on herself as I approached and I did also following her lead. As soon as I sat down I felt her strong yet gentle hands rubbing her special mixture on my back and then, as with Wendy, on my arms chest, neck, legs, head and face. One young man would occasionally dump a bucket of water over me with the warning, “Más agua en la cabeza,” (more water on your head) before dumping it. He asked me to cup my hands and put a piece of mango in them telling me to eat it, which I did. Angela spoke only Spanish, but her student translated her words to me as she gave me guidance for my spiritual journey. When she was finished, I was escorted to the river bank again, where another man told me to cup my hands. He poured oil into them and told me to rub it all over my body including in my hair and on my face as he was doing. It had a pleasant scent of cinnamon and other spices and it tingled as I rubbed it on. When  Angela got out of the water, she took a sip of beer from a bottle, then shook the bottle and sprayed it on everyone making the sign of the cross. We then all took a sip from a bottle of beer that was passed around. As we were gathering our belongings, Wendy  asked if we should do anything or leave some money for Angela. The young man we asked, said, “No. just come back and toss two pennies into the river in thanksgiving.” 

This experience is one we will always remember and is hopefully a story you find intriguing. But why am I writing about it? We are all on a journey ~ a pilgrimage. For me it is on the Way of Jesus and of the Tao. Wendy and I express this in song on the second Sunday of the month when we attend an evening Contemplative Celtic Communion and sing, “Peregrinatio pro amore Christi, peregrini hospites mundi, proclaiming that we are pilgrims for the love of Christ, pilgrims, guests of the world. 

We usually think that the goal of a journey or pilgrimage is to reach some destination. Wendy and I have traveled on vacation/pilgrimages with the goal of experiencing certain places: Chartes Cathedral, the island of Iona, the Chalice Well in Glastonbury and other sacred sites. For some the pilgrimage may be an internal one to what the Eastern Christians call theosis or John Wesley called sanctification. But maybe, the point is not to get somewhere ~ perhaps the journey itself is the point. As peregrini, we travel to new places and experience new people who are different than us, just as we did on the Willow River that day. And hopefully, by experiencing the other, we come to know ourselves, and the Holy One, at a deeper level.

On that first Sunday of June, we were planning to head home after our walk and celebrate our Sunday communion service ~ but we realized that we already had: purification, prayer, mango and beer communion, and anointing with oil. 

If we are open, if we are not afraid, the Spirit may appear in many guises, many faces, through many cultures. What a blessing it is to be in the right place at the right time and open to the Spirit who Jesus tells us  “blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

When I was a boy, growing up in the rural part of Florida just on the outskirts of Pinellas Park, it was always exciting to go with the family into the city, St. Petersburg, on a Saturday. This might mean spending some time shopping at Webb’s City: The World’s Most Unusual Drug Store, and maybe getting a haircut there. We might have a great sandwich or fountain drink at Wolfie’s Deli and Restaurant, which my dad loved. I would certainly hope mom and dad would stop at Haslam’s Book Store so I could browse through the many aisles and maybe buy a used book or a new Classics Illustrated Comic Book. But my favorite place to stop was Sone’s Asian gift and magic shop. This small store always smelled delightful with the fragrance of Japanese incense filling the air. I would slowly walk around and look at all of the beautiful and delicate tea pots, vases, fans and statues. My slow exploration would always end at the center of the store where a long glass case was filled with magic tricks and jokes. Behind the counter stood Mr. Sone, a slender, short Japanese man in his sixties who always had a ready smile and was eager to show me some new magic trick or joke gift. He would offer me a piece of candy, which when I opened the box, a rubber spider would leap out and “bite”my hand, or offer some peanut brittle from a can, that when I opened it, a spring “snake” would fly out. Even though I knew this would happen, I was always startled and would jump, and Mr. Sone would laugh and laugh. He would then show me a couple of magic tricks and if I had saved enough of my allowance, I would buy one. Mr. Sone would then graciously and unhurriedly teach me how it worked.

When I was in seventh grade, while waiting for the city bus that I rode home after school, my friend Mike and I were confronted by the local bullies. I remember being trounced pretty badly, but could see that Mike was throwing his would-be assailants around. Then, when Mike came to my rescue, the boys ran away. I was amazed. He told me he had been taking judo at the YMCA. When I got home, I was asked the inevitable questions regarding how my school uniform got dirty and how I got the bruises on my face. I embarrassingly confessed my pugilistic failure to my mom and dad and then begged them to let me take judo so I could learn to defend myself. After some amount of time begging and cajoling they relented and signed me up for judo class at the YMCA in downtown St. Petersburg. I was so excited on that evening of my first class. I lined-up wearing my borrowed judo gi to bow to the teachers and to my great surprise, I saw that the sensei was Mr. Sone from the gift and novelty shop. Once the class began I quickly saw how through his judo mastery, he played tricks on his much larger assistants, effortlessly throwing them to the floor time after time. His judo reminded me of the magic tricks he demonstrated in his store. He was always kind when correcting my mistakes and I took comfort in the familiarity of his beginning and ending class with a prayer for our safety. Sensei Sone emphasized that outside of class, we must always use judo only for self-defense. I only studied judo with Mr. Sone for about a year, but I will always remember this gentle yet powerful man who so profoundly influence the rest of my life. He opened the door to what would be a life-long pursuit of the soft or internal Asian martial arts and of the Taoist philosophy upon which they were built. 

In the early 1970s, I found myself drawn to the television show, Kung Fu, with David Carradine. While the martial arts scenes were fun to watch, I mostly enjoyed the Taoist philosophy taught to the young Kwai Chang Cane by Master Kan and the blind Master Po. 
In one episode Master Kan tells the young Kwai Chang, “Seek not to contend. The supple willow does not contend against the storm, yet it survives.”

This philosophy mirrored the lessons learned on the mat with Mr. Sone and of the Tao Te Ching which I first read during that same time. The Tao Te Ching says: 

"remember
to be at your best
pattern yourself after water
nothing in all the world is softer or more powerful
nothing in all the world can substitute for it
nothing in all the world can stop it

in their hearts
everyone easily knows that
the soft and the weak
will always overcome the hard and strong
but they find it difficult to live this way

the secret is to
move the bodymind like water."
~ John Bright-Fey translation, 2006, Chapter 78 

And again:

 "The Tao never acts with force,
yet there is nothing that it can not do.” ~ Chapter 37 

Over the years, I have learned that not only in self-defense, but in my healing work with qigong or psychotherapy, or along the path of theosis or individuation, things cannot be forced. It is usually best to get out of the way so the qi or the Holy Spirit can accomplish through us what needs to be done. Master Jesus taught this when he said, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” St. Paul understood this when he wrote to the followers of Jesus in Corinth that God told him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” .... Therefore I am content with weaknesses for whenever I am weak, then I am strong. ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 NRSV

Fifty years have passed since those first classes with Mr. Sone and over that time I studied Hakkoryu jujutsu, aikido and ten years of kung fu with Master Gin Foon Mark. For the past fourteen years, I have studied tai chi with Dr. Paul Lam. 

I am pensive as I reminisce on this part of my life and how, as a child, a magical encounter with a elderly Japanese man led to a lifelong interest and exploration of a philosophy and practice that has so pervasively influenced my life. I am grateful that I can now join St. Paul in saying: “That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weakness.....For when I am weak, then I am strong.” And you may even see a magic trick at one of my retreats or workshops.

A couple of weeks ago Wendy and I went to the movie Into theWoods. It was a wonderful film, filled with fairytale images, catchy songs and fine acting. Most of all it was a visual and auditory feast for our Jungian archetypal taste. As those of you who have attended one my retreats know, I often use a fairytale or story as the foundation.

All of us must go into the mythic woods during our lifetime, usually more than once. In the opening song of the movie we hear, “Into the woods- It's time, and so I must begin my journey..... Into the woods, and who can tell what's waiting on the journey.” Dante Alighieri understood this when  he began his Divine Comedy with the words: “Midway upon the journey of life I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost.” These are not the woods we walk through on a sunny weekend day at local park for a bit of exercise and to enjoy the beauty of the natural world. These are the dark woods of our fears - the haunted woods, where scary and wild things live. these are  the woods where we may encounter “Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my!” These are the woods in which we become a wanderer on a quest.

One of my favorite children’s picture books is The Enchanted Wood by Ruth Sanderson. This new fairytale follows the typical format and has some of the most beautiful artwork I have seen in a children’s book. The queen has died, the king is in grief and the kingdom has become a wasteland. The king’s three sons go on a quest to find the tree at the Heart of the World that can renew the kingdom. The Heart of the World is deep in an Enchanted Wood. 

The first son goes on the quest and when he fails to return the second goes. Each prince is greeted by an elderly woman who gives him a warning: “Be true to the quest, at any cost. Stray from the path, and you will be lost.” Each son, in turn, treats the woman rudely and ignores her. The eldest son is enchanted by a magnificent White Stag moving through the forest and follows it becoming lost. The second son sees a knight in all black armor riding slowly through the wood. He follows the Black Knight to challenge him also becoming lost in the Enchanted Wood.

When the first two sons fail to return, the youngest son, begins the quest. When he is greeted by the elderly woman with the same warning: “Be true to the quest, at any cost. Stray from the path, and you will be lost.” he listens politely. The young prince is invited to join the woman and her daughter, Rose, for supper and to rest. The next morning, Rose joins the young prince saying, “I may be able to help you on your quest.” 

During the journey, the young prince sees each of his brothers and his first instinct is to go to their rescue. But Rose reminds him, ““Be true to the quest, at any cost. Stray from the path, and you will be lost.” After some time, they come to a clearing and find “a wonderful tree, the like of which they had never seen. They understood that here was the Heart of the World, as old as the earth itself.” Their quest successful, the kingdom is restored to its natural lushness, and of course, the young prince becomes the new king with Rose at his side as queen.

There is great wisdom in this simple fairytale that can help us through our own journey into the woods. The warning of the wise woman is the place to start: ““Be true to the quest, at any cost. Stray from the path, and you will be lost.” The quest is always the same, whether it is symbolized by search for the Heart of the World, the Holy Grail, or the Pearl of Great Price. It is the journey of theosis or individuation. It is the search for the Self, for the Divine within.

In The Enchanted Wood, the four things that take the seekers off of their true path, are things we all deal with on our own quest in the dark wood. The first is pride, manifested in the story by rudeness toward the elderly wisdom figure and arrogance in not feeling any need to heed her warning. For us this appears when we think our religion, or political party, or knowledge, is superior to those who are “other,” and certainly not as good as us. 

The second, is chasing the White Stag. The White Stag, according to Emma Jung in The Grail Legend, can be seen as patriarchal spirituality or religion (big horns). It may even be interpreted as the Shadow Christ, in whose name wars, the inquisition, and in the current times, when homophobic laws and laws suppressing women’s rights are passed.

The third thing is the meeting with the Black Knight. The Black Knight represents our shadow, that unconscious ‘‘dark side’’ of our personality. Whatever we deem evil, inferior or unacceptable in ourselves becomes part of this shadow.

The fourth lure away from staying true to the quest was the impulse for the young prince to save his brothers at the expense of the quest. This certainly seems good, but is paradoxical. In the movie, Into the Woods, we hear in song, “Morality is complicated: "Wrong things, right things ... Who can say what's true? ... Do things, fight things ... You decide, but ... You are not alone ... You decide what's right. You decide what's good."

Indeed we are not alone. The young prince in The Enchanted Wood is accompanied by Rose. A highly complex symbol, the rose represents both heavenly perfection and earthly passion. In Alchemy, it is wisdom. In the Hebrew Kabbalah, it emerges from the Tree of Life. The rose has always been associated with the goddess, including Isis, Aphrodite, and the Virgin Mary, who is sometimes referred to as the "rosa mystica." For us modern day wanderers on the quest, Rose can be thought of as the anima, the feminine wisdom energy of the psyche or soul. 

By deepening our connection to the unconscious anima we will find that we have a great inner friend within us who will guide us through every step in the dark woods and on our path of individuation, theosis, wholeness.
"So into the woods you go again. You have to every now and then. Into the woods, no telling when, be ready for the journey." ~ From Into the Woods

Ruth Sanderson, The Enchanted Wood,  Little Brown and Company,1991.

Emma Jung & Marie-Louise von Franz, The Grail Legend, Sigo Press 1986.